Why I Quit My Dream Job

I have officially finished Whole30! Sweet Baby Jesus, I never thought I would make it to this day.

I’m so excited, but I also feel really good physically, so I’m not gonna go on the major food craze I wanted to go on about two weeks ago. I’m technically in the reintroduction phase so I have to slowly reintroduce the foods I couldn’t eat back into my life and tbh I’m pretty inspired to live Whole30ish 90% of the time. But, more on that later later this month.

I’m kinda freaking out hitting publish on this post to be entirely honest. It’s why it’s going up on Wednesday and not Monday. I edited it about 100 times and kept hesitating scheduling it. I teared up writing it at moments, I felt sad and angry and finally I felt relieved.

It’s something that I’ve wanted to write for a long time now, but emotionally couldn’t bring myself to. If you’ve been following along with me for a while, you know I always allude to my previous job and how it was horrible and I pretty much quit with no plan because I couldn’t take it anymore.

Well today, I’m finally opening up and being totally honest and real on why I quit my dream job.

This job put me in such a dark place mentally that I haven’t wanted to re-visit it. I’ve also been afraid of what people would think and if they would judge me, especially people I used to work with if they ever read this. But, most of all, a part of me was embarrassed and sad about the whole situation.

Two years later and I can finally say that this no longer has a hold on my life the way it used to. I still battle with the depression and the anxiety that arises every now and then, but for the most part I’m not constantly thinking about this. To be honest, I tried to recall some memories the other day for this post and I found myself blanking. I guess I blocked this out of my life for so long that I pretty much forgot certain things.

Anyways, I’m going to stop rambling, which I tend to do when I’m nervous, and get right into it.

Ever since I was a little girl, I was obsessed with magazines.

There was nothing like that glossy cover and those colorful pages filled with fashion and style advice and health tips and pretty much different ways to be the best you. Anytime my mom had a doctor or dentist appointment, I would sit in the waiting room grabbing at any and every magazine I could get my hands on. I remember one time seeing a Cosmopolitan and because the verbiage on the cover was so scandalous, hiding it in the middle of another magazine just so I could flip through it.

I think I was in high school when my mom finally agreed to let me sign up for a Seventeen magazine subscription, which was my absolute favorite magazine. I remember on days when my mom had off from work and my monthly subscription came in, she would always bring it with her when she picked me up from school. I would be so excited to sit on the train and flip through it with her and we would always talk about every aspect of it like we were editors.

When I went off to college, my love of magazines continued to grow. At that point, I had a subscription to Seventeen, Teen Vogue and Glamour. Even with all my subscriptions, I would still make my way to the magazine aisle at CVS and always be tempted to pick something up. Those glossy covers just spoke to me.

I was a sophomore when I stumbled upon ed2010.com. It’s the website you go to when you’re looking for an internship at a magazine.

It’s funny because as much as I loved magazines, I never thought about the work that went into them. For me, it was just a glossy book that showed up monthly.

I remember perfecting my resume and writing 101 cover letters to apply to all my favorite magazines. I spent extra time on the Seventeen one of course because it was extra special. Again, I don’t talk about faith much on my blog, but I remember clear as day, sitting on my bed, on my Teen Vogue comforter thank you very much and praying. Just praying to God… please, please let me get an internship at a magazine, this is all I’ve ever wanted.

Spoiler alert, I never heard back from any of them. Even in my senior year when I accepted an internship at a PR firm in New York, I was sad that I never got my magazine internship, I was scared that I had this dream that I would maybe never accomplish, but I was also positive. I would tell my roommates at the time, well this PR company works with magazines so it’s totally a start.

When I started interning in PR and working with different editors at different magazines to lend them samples, I admit I was a bit starstruck.

My boss at the time who was such a sweetheart, would laugh at me and find it so funny, but still supported me. Something as small as scheduling a messenger to go pick up a sample at Conde Nast or at the Hearst Tower was so exciting for me. These two iconic buildings that created my favorite magazines every month. Wow, I mean wow.

I remember one of my fellow interns had to rush a sample to Vogue once and I was so jealous. On a steaming hot June day in NYC where she was literally thrown in a cab with a garment bag, rushed to Times Square, given the run around until they finally let her upstairs just to deliver a garment bag. I mean, not glamorous at all, but at the time I was so jealous.

If I had to go on a weekly magazine run for the team, I would stand on 8th ave looking uptown at the Hearst Tower silently praying. Please God, it’s all I want, just to be in that building.

The most exciting day of my internship was when my boss said that the team at Marie Claire wouldn’t come to our office to look at a certain designer’s collection so we were going to take the collection up to them.

As I was in the cab heading uptown, I was so freaking excited. I was texting everyone in my phone book pretty much freaking out. As the cab pulled up to the front of the Hearst Tower, I was in awe. You would think I had never seen a sky scrapper before because I was just looking up, completely fascinated. Even the people standing outside looked glamorous to me. When you went through the revolving doors, you were greeted by high ceilings, four long escalators and an amazing waterfall. People were coming and going just looking absolutely fabulous and I couldn’t believe I was here and it made me want to be a part of that fabulous life so badly. When we arrived at Marie Claire, I still hadn’t shaken off the feeling of awe. They had their signature couch that you always see on Instagram along with bigger versions of those iconic glossy covers.

The funny thing is, as I was taking everything in, I remember two interns leaving for lunch and both of them complaining about how tired they were and about how they had to run to Brooklyn today to drop something off at a studio. And I remember thinking, are you serious? You’re interning at Marie Claire. You get to be in this beautiful building everyday, what could you possibly complain about?

I’m going to fast forward a little bit because I’ve shared my career journey a few times on the blog.

You can read this post here which funny enough I not only talk about my career path, but talk about how happy I was to land the job that I’m referencing in this post.

But, if you’re new, I basically achieved my magazine dream by landing a freelance role at Teen Vogue. It’s probably my favorite job even to this day. I learned so much, I met my best friend there and even through the hard times, it was a really great experience.

I actually wasn’t even looking for a new job when I was approached about this one. I loved what I was doing. I was passionate about the magazine. My boss was and still is my best friend, why would I want to leave?

On a sunny April day, one of the editors approached me and told me that the Cosmopolitan & Seventeen (the two teams had merged earlier that year) fashion team was looking for a new Accessories Assistant. It was full time so I would get my name in the masthead which is honestly the ultimate goal for anyone working at a magazine and also probably get paid more money.

I didn’t know what to think. I even talked to my mom and boyfriend about it and to my boss at work and everyone was in the same boat as me. No one was passionate either way, they just told me to go for it if I wanted to. On the one hand, Seventeen magazine was my absolute favorite magazine growing up. I literally prayed to God to be able to work at that magazine specifically and in my post grad years, Cosmo had become a favorite for me. But, on the other hand, I was happy. The Teen Vogue team had become my family, how could I leave them?

So I decided to leave it up to faith and go with the mantra of everything happens for a reason. I would go interview and if I get it…great and if I don’t…then fine.

Here’s what I remember from that interview:

I remember bonding with the senior editor who was interviewing me over which designer I was loving recently because it happened to be her favorite designer. Totally by chance by the way, I didn’t google this and drop it in.

I remember her being a little bit cold, but I tried to block it out. I’m usually really bubbly and happy in interviews and she wasn’t really giving me the same energy back.

I remember telling my boss at TV how it went and him telling me he had known her before and didn’t really like her and I ignored it and convinced myself that I bonded with her.

I remember having to do an edit test and thinking wow, this is like a big girls job because I have to create a mock magazine page and write all these short essays.

And finally, I remember when I got the call that I got the position, with a salary of… drum roll please because I’m going to be totally honest $32,000 a year. Total honesty again, I was making $10 an hour for 40 hours with no overtime while I was obviously doing overtime. So for me, I was like wow, I finally made it, look at that salary!

Looking back, I now see all these red flag that I chose to ignore and I think I honestly ignored my gut instinct because I wanted this to work so badly in the end.

I was still in awe every single day that I was working at Teen Vogue. I hoped and prayed to work for a magazine, but I really never thought I would and here I was. And to now have the opportunity to say that I not only worked at TV, but also ended up working for my absolute favorite magazine growing up, Seventeen Magazine, would be amazing. Not to mention, the pay increase would do wonders.

Not to sound shady, but to be shady, the editorial industry is filled with tons of people who are already wealthy and already know someone and that’s how they got their foot in the door. I was packing pb&j sandwiches for lunch everyday and my splurge of the month was my monthly train pass so I can admit that I wanted the name on my resume and I wanted the money.

I arrived extra early so I waited at the small park across the street. I called my mom to let her know I was here. She wished me good luck. With confidence and happiness I walked into that building finally feeling like I made it and like I belonged.

During orientation, I met a girl who was the new fashion assistant at Cosmo/Seventeen as well. Yay, my first friend! And she is working at the same magazine as me, double yay!

They played a video for us where the President of Hearst showed us around the building to the soundtrack of Pharell’s Happy.

From the 40something floor, the view was amazing, it was the perfect view of One World Trade where my TV family was, who all texted me good luck and how proud of me they were on my first day. Again I was positive and happy.

Now, allow me to set the scene for you here.

It’s my first week at Cosmo/Seventeen. I’m no longer all the way downtown, high up in One World Trade Center with my Teen Vogue family. I’m all the way uptown at the Hearst Tower. My commute is longer so I have to get up and leave the house earlier.

It’s close to 8pm, which I would come to learn is actually early for me to leave the office. I’m standing on the platform at the Columbus Circle train station waiting for the A train. My boyfriend was nice enough to meet up with me because I hadn’t seen him since I started here.

Since I now work uptown and my mom works downtown, we no longer commute home together. I just called her and put on a brave voice telling her work was good and I’m on my way home.

I hang up the phone and I start crying.

Right on the subway platform, I have a full breakdown.

I’m sobbing and shaking as my boyfriend holds me tight, and again and again I wonder out loud, did I make a mistake? Did I make the right decision leaving Teen Vogue to come here? My boss at TV just hired a new assistant so it’s too late to run back.

I’ve been thrown into things throughout the entire week, which is fine, but I’ve been yelled at hourly for every little mistake and in front of others. I’ve been told one thing, but then expected to do another and then asked why I would even consider doing something a certain way. The phrases in an aggressive tone “do you understand?” “are you listening” “Why would you do this?” are ringing in my ear because I’ve heard them so much this week and it’s only Wednesday.

I feel lost and I’m emotional and Charlie Puth’s song, see you again came on and I almost cried at my desk thinking about my TV family and how lonely and sad I feel in this moment. I was asked to come in at 7:30 a.m one day and I’m already sleep deprived and already used to being the first one in the office and the last one out. I’ve been getting home close to 9/10 every night and my blog has been rejected and I’ve barely eaten since I started working. My first day I didn’t eat at all and almost passed out on my way home. And when I got home, I barely wanted to eat at that point because I was so exhausted. My bosses freak out and look for me if I even step away from my desk to go to the bathroom, so how could I possibly step out for lunch? I start to pack lunch, heat it up and then get busy so it just sits next to me getting cold before I just dump it out feeling defeated.

To set a timeline I started working at Cosmo/Seventeen in May of 2015 and by July that year I had already hit my breaking point.

I remember having to secretly have a meeting on the opposite side of the office with the fashion director to discuss what had been going on. Spoiler alert, the girl who worked before me couldn’t take it, luckily found another job and quit. My two bosses were known to be difficult and knowing that now, I feel like everyone must have laughed when I got hired on. Probably said something along the lines of “poor thing, I wish her luck.”

To do damage control, my two bosses took me out to lunch a few weeks after they spotted me talking to the director to pretty much try and “get to know me” and then tell me that working here is not hard. That they’ve worked at other places that was so much harder and this was not hard at all so I was lucky.

My coworker who I met on orientation day and got really close to actually came from Conde Nast as well. She got lucky and left halfway through because her old boss started working at Conde again and hired her on. I was so depressed at this point and more so when she left.

I became scared of my phone and would hide it on the weekends. I would get up on Saturday, try to eat and then nap all day long. I felt like I was in a coma because it was a restless nap but I couldn’t seem to wake up and pull myself out of it. When Sunday rolled around I had knots in my stomach. I wanted to throw up and cry because I didn’t want to go back to work. By 8pm on Sunday night, the aggressive work emails would start flooding in.

I didn’t like who I was becoming.

I was rude to the interns and would snap at them if I thought I was going to be yelled at. I didn’t care if they learned or not or if they were enjoying their internship or even if they took a lunch break. I only wanted them to continuously work so I wouldn’t get yelled at. My last week at Teen Vogue, my coworkers and I were gathered around talking and they asked me if I thought I would be nice to my interns. Of course, I said. My bosses at TV were so nice to me and mentored me and I wanted to be that mentor to others. Even my mom told me the day before my first day to make sure I’m nice to everyone even the interns because I knew what it felt like to be at the bottom of the totem pole. And here I was being horrible.

I fought with my boyfriend over every little thing. I could barely smile and have fun with my mom anymore because anytime I felt the slightest bit happy, I would remember how unhappy I was at work. I was tired all the time because I was working from 7:30am to almost midnight. I stopped putting on makeup because it was too much of a hassle. I would wear black pants, a new fresh tee and the same downtown sweater every single day because I didn’t feel the need to make an effort anymore.

There were some days where I would be so depressed that I would go into the handicap stall in the bathroom, sit on the floor and just cry. I felt like I was going crazy and I would quietly repeat over and over, I can’t do this anymore.

As I hit that breaking point, I started thinking, what’s my end goal? What do I really get out of this?

Spoiler alert, the editorial industry doesn’t pay much. So I thought to myself, let’s say I stick with this and get a promotion and then become an editor. Now what? I still get paid nothing, I still have to deal with the long hours and the attitudes and I may even continue the viscous cycle of being mean to the next assistant. You have this feeling where you think, well someone was mean to me and I worked my butt off and now I have every right to be mean to this person. If I had to go through it so should they. So I really started thinking long term. Is this really what I want? Do I really want to get promoted and continue to deal with this? What do I really get out of this?

I no longer looked at magazines the way I used to. I hadn’t read one in months. I was so busy working that I didn’t even flip through the issues I worked on even when it was released. This was no longer a magical place to me, it was my personal hell.

I had actually made the decision to quit towards the end of March.

I remember telling my mom my desire to quit, take a month off to finally relax and then start the job hunt. To back track, I had actually come clean to her in July that I was so unhappy at my job. It was a weight off my shoulders. She started coming up to my job after work to keep me company since I worked till midnight most nights. She let me vent to her about everything and really encouraged me to stay strong. Surprisingly, she was all for it. I continuously asked her day after day once I made my decision if it was okay. It would be a financial burden since we would go back to a one income household and I felt like like I was disappointing her. But, just like everything else, she supported me fully.

I remember sitting in Vivi Bubble Tea one Friday night with my mom and boyfriend and chubby little chihuahua and for the first time in a year, feeling happy. Feeling like a weight had been taken off my shoulders. I actually had a group text with my summer interns since they were my first group when I started and they really supported me during that tough transition. All of them supported me completely. Here was my ideal timeline… I would put in my two weeks on Friday, April 15, 2016 and my last day would be on Friday, April 29 and I would take all of May off and then get back into it.

I’m working on an upcoming post where I share little stories and experiences that were so ridiculous during my time working at the magazine so I’ll try not to ramble.

*I say 100 paragraphs later*

But, I wanted to share the specific event that led me to abandon my timeline and just quit.

At the end of March/beginning of April, I had come down with a cold. I woke up with a pounding headache, stuffy nose and sore throat. The thought of going into work was already unappealing, but the thought of going into work sick was pretty much unspeakable. So I decided to call out sick and stay home and try to be on emails. Out of an entire year being there, it was my first time really calling out sick or being out of the office. I never took a day off or anything so this was big.

I had emailed both of my bosses (the senior editor and regular editor) who seemed fine and just asked me to make sure an intern was on my email supporting their needs. Because God forbid, they had to remember to email the intern email rather than my own. So all day long, I tried to get rest while keeping up with emails and trying not to miss an email since one of my interns was also going through my emails.

The second day rolled around and I still felt like I had been hit by a truck so I stayed home again. When I had to tell my boss, the senior editor, I already had gotten the impression that she was unhappy. I mean fine, I get it, it’s work, she needs me, sure, but I’m sick. I can’t help that. She told me to make sure an intern was on top of things again today and to get some rest. Every time I tried to relax, I would think about my emails.

I was taking nighttime medicine that made you drowsy so I was fighting it to read my emails. One aggressive email after another with questions and tasks. My other boss, was not only emailing, but texting me and asking me about a project and rushing me. I remember at one point literally telling her, I’m on medicine, I’m home trying to work on my computer, I’m going as fast as I can. All she said was okay and when I finally sent the project, she responded with never mind we don’t need.

By the next day I was feeling better so I got up and dragged myself to work. Got into the office at 8am and surprise, there was an aggressive email from my boss waiting for me.

She was off that day, heading to a wedding in Miami and set to leave for the airport at any minute. In the email she told me that a messenger pick up was missed the previous day and how she didn’t understand how this happened and how I could let this happen. She went on to say that I had to rush an intern to her house that morning with the item and they better get there soon because she’s leaving for the airport soon.

I was so lost because I was out the past two days and wasn’t on any messenger pick up emails so I had no idea what was going on.

Luckily, my intern who covered for me while I was out came in at 8am so there I was herding her out there and rushing her to Brooklyn. That item in question was a clutch. A clutch that she borrowed from the PR company in the guise that it was needed for a cover shoot when in fact she wanted to personally borrow it for a wedding in Miami. And then I found out that one of my other interns was asked to make a late pick up from a PR firm the night before, take the item to his apartment, get up early and rush it to her apartment. From what he told me, he arrived, handed the bag off to her, she didn’t say thank you and closed the door in his face. The other intern I rushed from the office, was told halfway through that she was not needed so I had to tell her to come back.

Trying to be as respectful as possible, but still trying to figure out what was going on, I simply responded that it must have been a miss, as I was out I’m not sure what happened, but I will address and make sure it’s avoided in the future. She then responded and continued on to say that I continuously make small and dumb mistakes and so do the interns and instead of just accepting things, I need to figure it out and that no one should have to deal with cleaning up my mistakes because it’s unfair and too much and how this shouldn’t be happening and how I need to take more accountability, etc.

More accountability? I was always the first one to call myself out on a mistake and still got yelled at. I always asked questions if I didn’t know how to do something and got yelled at for asking questions. I was constantly being pulled in 100 different directions and told contradictory things and tried to make sense of everything, but still got the blame for everything. It could be raining during fashion week and she would have yelled at me.

When I read that email, one of the fashion assistants was in my accessories closet. I remember breaking down and just crying because I had dealt with a year of being bullied and belittled and to come back to work after being out sick and be blamed for something that I had no idea about and something that was personal and didn’t even pertain to the magazine was ridiculous.

My coworker suggested we go downstairs to the lobby where they had all this sitting area so I could get some room to breath. My mom just so happened to call me during that time to check up on me and I picked up the phone in full hysterics and could barely get a word out. When I finally did, I remember clear as day that she stayed quiet for a minute and then told me “You need to go upstairs right now and quit and if you don’t, I’m coming up tonight and doing it for you.” At that point, my coworker had known I was thinking of leaving and even she told me, I needed to leave because this was ridiculous.

So I took myself upstairs, printed off her emails, and with tears running down my face approached the fashion director.

Not the pinnacle of professionalism I know, but at that point I was depressed and tired and so weak that I just couldn’t fight to be strong anymore.

I showed her the email, went on to say that I can’t work like this, that no one deserves to be treated like this day in and day out and that for an entire year, I felt like I’ve been having a day of firsts. Where its your first day and you’re feeling lost and making mistakes, I feel like I had a year of first days.

Of course in the magazine industry, this isn’t new or shocking. You either deal with it until you become an editor or you leave. So all she did was ask me if I was sure, I said yes and put in my two weeks. My other boss had cancelled all her press previews that morning and came running into the office. For the first time, she at least pretended to be nice to me and pretended I didn’t have to tell her what was going on and acted all innocent like she was normally nice and cheery.

My boss had come back into the office on Tuesday. I remember that morning being so nervous to see her. Even though, I truly believe I didn’t do anything wrong and that she constantly belittled me in that email chain and had been all around horrible, I still was so scared. That first day she didn’t speak to me much or address me at all. The second day she was back, she told me in passing, in front of everyone not even in private, “You did a good job here and for that I do think you should be recognized and thanked, you were a really good worker, it’s just sad that your recent actions had to diminish that.”

Okay.

So I got an email from you that I was pretty much trash and now you’re saying I was a good worker. You and the other editor bullied and belittled me for an entire year and I quit so that was the bad action that tarnished my name? So she was the victim and I was the big bad wolf apparently.

On my last day, there was no party, no card, nothing. My fellow assistants had bought me a pack of Baked by Melissa’s Cupcakes. My interns who were amazing all got me a gift and wrote me cards. Half the team didn’t say bye to me. My boss came in before she left to give me a half hearted hug and said good luck and that was that.

Random, but I wanted to mention, I actually had an intern that started later than everyone and who kept a blog about her life. Nothing professional, super wordpress 101, but she specifically shared her experience at Cosmo and all the ridiculous things that happened and even touched upon how I quit. I remember a few interns reaching out to me because the magazine had actually discovered it, made her leave and made her delete it. Can you imagine being so horrible that you won’t even address her post and her claims and instead bully her into silence?

As depressed as I was and as hard of a time as it was being at Cosmo, those three months of unemployment were just as tough.

I gained so much weight, I slept all day, I shut everyone out of my life and I just felt like a failure.

My whole life I wanted to work for a magazine and this was my dream magazine and I pretty much had my dream job.

My college is not known to produce the best in the fashion industry and I was proud that I graduated from the program and still made a name for myself and here I was now, a quitter. I questioned my decision multiple times, I felt like a failure, I felt like a loser. I didn’t want to open up to anyone because I was so embarrassed.

I always overheard conversations about so and so leaving magazines and there always being a tone of judgment. “Oh this person moved back home.” “Who knows what this person is doing.” I was ashamed because I knew people judged me, I knew people at work thought I made a mistake and saw me as a quitter. I was unemployed for three months feeling lost and useless. And to be honest, I don’t doubt for one second that both of my bosses didn’t take joy in that. I was immersed in that industry so much so that I knew when I got hired on at Victoria’s Secret, I’m 100% sure a snide remark or comment was made in the office.

It’s a hard pill to swallow knowing that I never got the chance to be an editor. When you work at a magazine, it becomes who you are. You hide behind it. You think it makes you better than everyone else. When I used to walk into press previews, I would introduce myself first with the magazine I worked for, not even my name. Hi, I’m from Cosmo & Seventeen. Oh yeah, I’m Linda. Even through blogging, I would always drop it in every now and then because I thought people would like me more or respect me more. When I left, I had to find myself. I could no longer hide behind a magazine title.

After I quit, I replayed every argument, confrontation and moment back in my head. I would dream about it, think about it in the shower, it would always just pop up in my mind. I was angry at this point so I would have arguments in my head. You know when you get into a confrontation and then you think about the best comeback after everything is said and done, that was me.

But, I want to talk about the silver linings and what I learned.

After all that, do I regret anything? No. Because I truly do believe everything happens for a reason.

That experience ultimately led me to Victoria’s Secret where I’m happy and surrounded by kind people that respect one another and really believe in their job and take it seriously. It may sound cheesy, but after everything I went through at Cosmo, I’m so grateful to have finally found my place at Victoria’s Secret. I just had my annual review and my boss told me that she was so proud of me and that she always hears feedback from multiple teams that they love working with me and that I always get my work done.

I spent a year believing everything my bosses at Cosmo told me. I blamed myself for everything. Yep, I got yelled at because I am a bad worker. I do do everything wrong. I really believed I was horrible and here I am at VS being myself and giving my all and being praised for it.

While I’m proud of my job and the company I work for today, it also doesn’t define me. I don’t hide behind it to validate myself. I’m just myself and I’m proud of who I’ve become and who I fought to become. I can honestly toot my own horn and say I am strong. I dealt with that for a year and I continued to fight to pull myself out of my depression and be where I am today.

I’m my biggest critic and when I thought about posting this, I kept thinking about what people would say. They would probably call me weak since I couldn’t deal with this, after all it’s the work place you have to deal with all different kinds of people and personalities. I thought people would say oh that doesn’t sound as bad as you made it seem. And I’m sure if any of my bosses ever read this they would think I’m crazy and think I did this to myself. Remember, I’m the big bad wolf apparently.

But, this is my story and this is what I went through and how I felt. Almost two years later, I can finally open up about it because it no longer controls my life. I no longer second guess myself and hear their voices in my head talking down to me. Because I’ve moved on to a job and a team that builds me up and my mom and my boyfriend have supported me every step of the way. Even at my lowest points where I was horrible, they still stuck with me.

I’m not sure how to end this to be honest.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something that I wanted to say and mention.

I don’t know if I ended this as inspirational as I wanted this to be, but I’ll leave you with this.

When I left, my motto to everyone was, I may be young and dumb and naive, but I truly believe that this is not how you should treat someone and maybe I’m stupid for wanting kindness in the work place, but I’m determined to find it.

And honestly I did and my “dream job” may not have worked out, but it led to me a company that I love and to what is probably my actual dream job. While I lost something there, I gained something in the end. Jobs are hard to get, I get it. Believe me, I do. But, have standards for yourself and be confident and strong enough to walk away from something that may literally be destroying you. I just wanted to be happy in the workplace and I wanted to be able to have a career, but still have a life and be able to take care of my mom. And I really feel like I’ve accomplished that now. Crazier dreams have come true so regardless of people telling you, you can’t and trying to pull you down, be strong and fight through it because its worth it in the end.

Hello There!

Welcome to Live Laugh Linda! I'm Linda Quinones, a native New Yorker who works in the fashion industry by day and blogs about life at night. I can recite every word from every Harry Potter movie & I have a weakness for everything pineapple related. Thank you for stopping by, I hope you stay awhile!